Supernatural High
by afaithfulwriter890
Summary: Dean and Sam attend Supernatural High, a high school for all things Supernatural. Along the way, they meet a bunch of colorful characters including the nerdy angel in a trench coat, Castiel, a trickster named Gabriel, and Crowley, the king of the school, who apparently it out to ruin Castiel. Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Sam/Ruby, Lucifer/Meg, Michael/Adam.
1. Chapter 1

_Supernatural High - Chapter 1_

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**Heyyyy everyone. Welcome to my new fanfiction, "Supernatural High". I know there have been High School AU fics out there before, but this one is a little different. This story is based off an idea my friend, RegularPsycho13 and I had. Well, it was mainly her idea, but I just wrote it down. **

**Bascially, Supernatural High is a high school for all creatures Supernatural, and a few select humans. This is mostly AU, and may be a little confusion. Dean and Sam are still hunters-in-training. Castiel and all his brothers and sisters are still angels. Crowley, Meg, and all of them are still demons. Basically everyone is what they're supposed to be, but things are just a little different. Hopefully the chapters will do a better job of explaining why certain characters are where they are, or doing what they're doing.**

**I hope you enjoy this story, and remember to leave a review! They're what keep me writing!**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 1**

Castiel followed his brothers and sisters as they filed into the front doors of the school. No matter how hard he tried, he could not suppress the feelings of anxiety that were beginning to rise up inside him. He had lived a relatively happy and safe life for a long time, but now he had to venture out into a different world – a crueler world. Out here, the comforting walls of Heaven could not protect him. He felt almost exposed as he walked crossed the threshold into the building where he would be spending the majority of the next four years of his life. He knew that his brothers and sisters were all around him, but that didn't change the fact that they were not only going to a school with other supernatural beings, but _demons._

Castiel had never met a demon before, and he wasn't exactly eager two. His older brothers, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel had already spent three years at the school, and knew plenty of demons. However, none of them ever shed much light on them. Michael rarely even looked at demons – he considered himself too high-and-mighty to do something like that. Raphael copied his older brother, and had long ago adopted a similar attitude. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to adore the demons. He made friends with them, sat with them at lunch, went to parties with them – and all the demons seemed to adore him. They treated him like he was some kind of king. Or at least that was what Castiel heard. But even with that bit of information, it still didn't tell him much about how demons actually acted. The only one he could ever go to for useful information was Gabriel, but even he seemed to have sealed lips on the matter. "Just wait until you meet, them, Cassie," he had told his younger brother when he'd asked about the demons. "You can come to your own conclusions then."

Gabriel was the kindest, and most reliable out of all of Castiel's siblings. It was because of this that Gabriel was the one Castiel was closest to. Castiel loved all of his siblings – even the pompous Michael, and the occasionally cruel Lucifer – but Gabriel was the one he found himself getting along with the best. Balthazar, however, was a close second. The three of them were very close-knit, the same way Anna and Uriel stayed together, and how Michael, Raphael, and Lucifer kept to their own little group despite Lucifer's fascination with demons. They each loved one another, but they spent the most time with those they were most compatible with, or at least that is what Gabriel had told Castiel when he asked about it. However, that explanation did little to answer the younger angel's question. Michael and Lucifer could hardly stand each other anymore – every time they were within a ten-foot radius of each other, they would end up having some kind of argument, or they'd try to rip the other's throat out.

As Castiel stepped into the main hallway of the school, he watched as his siblings parted. Everyone seemed to know where they were going – everyone except him. Castiel stood there, looking around doe-eyed at his new surroundings. There were people his age everywhere – humans, shape-shifters, werewolves, vampires, skin-walkers, demons, etc. – hustling and bustling about. Most stood at their assigned lockers putting backpacks in and taking books out.

"Cassie."

The angel looked up to see Gabriel standing there. His older wore a white polo shirt and a pair of khaki pants. Castiel had to admit that he looked rather sophisticated, even though he had heard Lucifer teasing him about his look earlier that morning. "You're just trying to impress Kali, aren't you?" the other archangel had sneered. Gabriel had waved him off, but Castiel had a feeling that Lucifer had hit the nail on the head.

"You're gonna be late, kiddo," Gabriel informed him, his eyes snapping to the clock that hung on a nearby wall. "Better get to your locker and start unpacking."

Castiel nodded numbly. How was he supposed to find anything in this place? "Do you know where mine is?" he asked, feeling foolish. He should have to ask his big brother for help!

Gabriel sighed, but nodded compliantly. "What's the number?"

"2294," Castiel answered.

"Alright, second floor . . . I think it should be to the right," his brother said, his brow furrowing slightly. After a moment of silence, he gave him a nod. "See ya at lunch, bro."

Castiel watched as his brother headed off to his first period class. Realizing he had better hurry up unless he wanted to be late, Castiel hurried to the nearest flight of stairs and began to ascend. He knew that he could probably use his wings and get there much faster, but he had no idea if he would be allowed. Gabriel had informed him that things at the school were different than they were in Heaven. There were certain restrictions – for example, students were not allowed to use any powers they may possess while on school grounds. Castiel didn't know if flying qualified as a "power", but he didn't want to risk it.

As he reached the second floor, Castiel took a right turn. The hallways were still heavily populated with students, which gave him relief. He began to scan the locker numbers, looking for his own. In fact, he was so preoccupied looking for his number, that he wasn't looking where he was going. Castiel had no idea that anyone was even in his path until he slammed into something as hard as stone. The skinny angel hit the immovable mass with such force that he bounced off it and hit the ground with a soft thud.

"Watch where you're goin', feathers," a voice with a thick, Scottish accent sneered.

Castiel looked up to see a young man dressed in all black standing there. His hair was short, and as dark as his clothing. He was short – shorter than Castiel, but obviously heavier and apparently stronger. He also had a couple crones standing beside him who looked even more intimidating.

"Sorry," Castiel apologized quickly. This was his first day – the last thing he wanted was to make a bad impression. "I didn't see you."

"_Obviously,_" the man replied. "You nearly knocked me off my feet, you know? I can't have that – this suit is new, after all. The next time you bump me, I won't be so forgiving."

Castiel nodded submissively. As much as he disliked getting scolded, he didn't want to start any fights. He also couldn't help but notice the crowd that was beginning to gather around him. "I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," the boy with the Scottish accent replied. Without warning, his eyes flashed completely black. Castiel stared at them, stunned. They were completely obsidian – no pupils, no variation in color – just complete blackness. They were abysmal, and yet lifeless all at once.

"You're a demon," Castiel stated.

The demon's eyes flashed back to normal, and he smirked. "And you're an angel. Name's Crowley; what's yours, sweetheart?"

"Castiel."

"Well, great, Castiel. Now that we all know each other . . . I say we give you something to remember us demons by, since you don't seem to know much about us."

"Leave him alone, Crowley!" a new, deeper voice growled.

Castiel turned to see a very handsome man step forward from the crowd. The angel had to struggle to keep his mouth from falling open. The man before him was gorgeous – short, gelled blond hair, evergreen eyes, a beautifully-sculpted body – but that wasn't what really took Castiel's breath away. It was the man's soul. It shone so brightly – so proudly. And it was so . . . _pure_, and good – Castiel had never seen a soul like it.

"Ah . . . Dean," Crowley addressed the green-eyed man, disinterest apparent in his voice. "What can I do for you?"

"Leave the new kid alone," Dean ordered. "He didn't do anything to you."

"He bumped me! I was simply going to remind him to not do it again," Crowley replied sharply. Castiel could see that the demon's patience was running thin.

"I think he got the message," Dean answered roughly. His voice had gotten significantly deeper, and there seemed to be an unspoken dare in his voice. It was as if he was secretly saying to Crowley: "Do you really want to do this?"

Crowley gave Dean an indignant sniff. He smoothed out his suit and took off in the opposite direction, his demon cronies following him. As Crowley left, the crowd began to disperse. Castiel turned to face his hero, who still stood there, watching the demon go with narrowed eyes.

"Thank y—"

"Shut up," Dean snapped, rolling his eyes. Castiel recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "You're lucky I was here. Seriously, how stupid are you? Almost picking a fight with Crowley on the first day? You do know he practically _rules_ this school, right? Your reputation will be ruined by lunchtime."

Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion. "I hardly see how my reputation matters. I didn't come here to be amiable. I came here so I could take the courses I needed to so I could get out. Besides, I apologized to him. Twice."

Dean looked at him then, and their eyes locked. Castiel stared at Dean for what seemed like an eternity. He could have gotten lost in those bright jade-green eyes, if it weren't for the even brighter soul that was constantly calling for his attention. "I'm Dean Winchester," he said, stretching out a hand.

"I'm Castiel."

Dean groaned. "Damn it. With a name like that . . . You're an angel, aren't you?"

Castiel was confused as to why Dean seemed displeased by this. "Yes."

"Just my luck," he grumbled. "I hate angels – they're dicks with wings."

"I take offense to that," Castiel pointed out, surprised by the own harshness in his voice. A part of him was devastated to hear that. Is that really what this Dean saw him as?

Dean cursed and shook his head. "Hell, I didn't mean you, I—"

That's when the bell rang.

"Damn it, I gotta go," Dean mumbled before rushing off in the direction of his first period class.

Castiel sighed. He hadn't even found his locker yet, and first period was starting in five minutes. _Brilliant start, Castiel. Just brilliant._

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A/N: Review?


	2. Chapter 2

_Supernatural High - Chapter 2_

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**Thank you all so much for the positive response! I'm glad people seem to be enjoying this story!**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 2**

Dean Winchester hated angels; hated them with a burning passion. He thought they were all dicks with wings, especially that Michael. His brother Lucifer wasn't much better. As for the other angels – and there were more than Dean could ever hope to count – he didn't know much about. The only ones he actually knew were Michael, Lucifer, Zachariah, and Raphael, and neither of them were very friendly. Michael was arrogant, and self-righteous, and Raphael was so far up his brother's ass, that Dean was almost certain that one day the two of them would morph into one being. Lucifer was equally arrogant, but at the same time as more humble. He had a silver-tongue could easily win people over, and soft, puppy-dog eyes to go with it. Dean, of course, knew better than to buy into whatever Lucifer was trying to sell. Zachariah – who had once been Dean's partner for a Chemistry project – wasn't much better. It was clear after the first five minutes of working together that Zachariah believed that Dean the "human", as he had ungraciously called him, was incompetent of producing anything intelligent. The only bright side of working with him was that he did all the work, and Dean got an easy A. Of course, Dean still resented being treated like a mindless idiot.

When Dean saw Castiel standing in the hallway, facing off with Crowley, only one thought came to mind: _Look at this little shit._ And he thought that with the upmost affection. Castiel was standing there across from Crowley wearing a tan _trench coat_ of all things, with jaw set, and looking as if he was ready to jump into a defensive position at any moment. And it wasn't just that that got Dean's attention – it took balls to stand there in front of Crowley and a judgmental ground and hold your own. Of course, Castiel had apologized, but he said it with a note of finalism, as if he didn't care whether the demon accepted it or not. Castiel had managed the situation relatively well . . . at least until Crowley began to threaten to "teach him a lesson". That was when Dean had to intervene.

He didn't know why he did it. He liked to believe that it was because he loved giving Crowley a hard time whenever the opportunity arose. But he wasn't quite sure that _that _was what spurred him out to Castiel's rescue. There was something about that small, skinny, nerdy-looking angel that made Dean want to protect him in that moment. Then again, he didn't know that Castiel was an angel at the time. He hadn't heard him say his name to Crowley, and didn't know what he was until he had already saved the kid's ass.

Yet, as he walked to first period, he still could not push the nerdy angel from his mind.

As Dean walked into his Trigonometry class, he saw Michael and Lucifer already in class. The two brothers were on opposite sides of the room – Michael on the side parallel to the door, and Lucifer across from him. Lucifer was standing next to the school's demon-whore, Meg, which wasn't surprising. All the demons loved Lucifer for some reason, except Crowley. Crowley hated his guts, but then again, Crowley pretty much despised everyone, and yet still found ways to use them to his advantage. Lucifer seemed to be doing the same thing, just with a different strategy. Crowley offered something in return for their services, Lucifer simply sweet-talked them into doing what he asked.

"Hey, Dean," a female voice snapped Dean out of his thoughts of angels and demons. He turned to see his best friend, and fellow human, Jo Harvelle standing there.

"Hey, Jo," he replied with a smile. If there was one person on the planet apart from his younger brother, Sammy, that Dean loved, it was Jo. He didn't love her in a romantic way, but as a sister. Once upon a time, they had tried out the whole "romance" thing, but it didn't sit well with either of them. And Dean was fine with that. As much as he liked Jo, he liked partying and sleeping around more. He liked not being tied down by a relationship. He liked being free to wander wherever and do whatever he pleased.

Jo returned the smile, and walked back to her seat in the back of the classroom. Dean followed, and claimed the seat beside her. Dean couldn't help but notice how Jo would glance in Lucifer's direction every now and them. At first, Dean was going to call her on it – maybe even tease her about it, but then he realized that she wasn't looking at the angel, but at the demon beside him.

"You got a beef with Meg, or somethin'?" he asked, quiet enough so no one would overhear.

The petit blond gave him a stern look and shook her head, only to falter a second later. "I don't know . . ." she sighed, her gaze drifting back to the red-haired demon. "I just . . . Every guy in this school notices her."

"She's a slut, Jo," Dean pointed out. "Every guy that notices her is clearly just lookin' for a chance to get between her legs. And they know that she'll let 'em too."

Jo looked away, trying to hide some emotion that Dean couldn't decipher. Before he could inquire about it, the final bell rang, signaling the start of not only the school day, but the first day of Dean's senior year. He couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him. Yeah, he had about two thirds of a year left in this hell, but at least he wouldn't have to come back afterward.

He saw Jo pull out a notebook from the corner of his eye and let out a small chuckle. Jo was a tomboy – always had been, always would be. But damn could she be a straight edge sometimes, especially when it came to schoolwork. Always the diligent student, she was. The classroom had pretty much filled up. There was a relatively even mix in this class – Dean and Jo were the only humans, but that was nothing new. Few humans attended Supernatural High, the main reason being that it might be emotionally scarring for most kids to be sent to a school where angels, demons, werewolves, vampires, and so forth were the norm. Some might say that the human kids that _did _go there were already messed up in the head, or at least would be by the time their four years were up, but Dean disagreed. Dean took pride in the fact that he went to a school full of monsters. He liked being one of the select few that, in his mind, were deemed strong enough to attend.

Dean stifled a yawn as the teacher entered the room and introduced herself. He'd heard this introductory lecture before, and he'd hear it seven more times before the school day was out. He didn't know why the first day was so important anyway – it was a full day of _nothing_. Instead of sitting through one of his teacher's boring anecdotes about her life that she was clearly trying too hard to tie into Trigonometry, Dean put his head down and closed his eyes.

As he began to drift off, Dean was surprised (and slightly disturbed) to find a nerdy angel in a trench coat occupying most of his thoughts.

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A/N: review?


	3. Chapter 3

_Supernatural High - Chapter 3_

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**Yay, a Sammy chapter! Sorry for a bit of a long wait for this one.**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 3**

Sam Winchester hated changing schools. He hated being the new kid. He hated having to make new friends. He hated being looked at, and examined like he was some kind of bizarre species. He hated school period.

Maybe it was because of the way he grew up. From the time he was old enough to remember, he and his family had lived on the road. Their father, John Winchester, was constantly traveling from place-to-place to work, often leaving Sam and his older brother, Dean, alone in dingy motel rooms for hours at a time. John's job was inconsistent and unpredictable. One day, they'd been staying in Cincinnati, Ohio. The next they might be down in Charlotte, North Carolina. It was almost impossible for Sam and Dean to go school like normal children.

John did his best to look after both of them, make sure they got an education, and hold down his crazy job. When Sam was little, he had no idea what his dad was. Dean had told him once that their father was a mechanic. When Sam pointed out that there were hardly any other cars around apart from the '67 Impala their dad owned, Dean told him to shut up and eat his cereal. When Sam finally did find out what their father did, things began to make sense, and yet, at the same time, they were extremely confusing. As Sam got older, he began to understand John's work more, and eventually began learning the "family business" along with Dean. Sam was a good hunter – like his father. He could hunt anything – demon, vampire, werewolf, shape-shifter – but he hated it. He hated "the life" with a passion. He didn't want to be a brooding, angst-y, violent hunter. He wanted to have a normal life. He wanted to go to Stanford and become a lawyer. He wanted to get married, and have a family. He didn't want to hunt monsters for the rest of his life.

Sam actually thought he might be able to do it. He thought he might be able to escape the life that his father was trying to shove down his throat, and then they learned about Supernatural High. John had only heard rumors about the place, and didn't believe that it was real. That was, until their headmaster called him up and asked if Dean and Sam would be interested in going there.

Dean had been stoked about the opportunity. Even though the headmaster had reiterated over and over that killing the monsters – no matter how evil they may seem – was absolutely prohibited, Dean was still excited. Sam, on the other hand, pitched a fit at the mere thought of it. He wanted to get away from all of this, not become even more involved! Plus, how was he going to get into Stamford if he didn't have a GED from an _actual_ high school? When he told his dad about all this, John just shrugged it off. "Don't worry Sam," he'd said. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You can go into that school – see how the monsters think! How they interact with one another – really get to know them! Imagine how much easier it will be to hunt them!"

Sam wanted to point out that he didn't _want _to be a hunter, but he bit his tongue. He knew better than to argue with John Winchester when he already had his mind set on something. He could kick and scream all he wanted, but he was going to that high school whether he liked it or not.

And now, he was sitting in fourth period biology class. Most of his class were older students – sophomores and juniors mostly. There were a few seniors, and one just happened to be sitting next to him. Gabriel – the _archangel Gabriel_ – sat at his table, as his lab partner. When Sam had arrived for class at the beginning of the period, the archangel had already been in his seat. Once Sam sat down and had gotten situated, the angel had introduced himself. Sam had just sat there in shock for a few moments.

He couldn't wrap his arm around the fact that an archangel _was his lab partner._

"You're that human kid, right?" Gabriel had asked when Sam remained silent in a state of awe. "Winchester?"

Sam had nodded, his mouth dry. "Yeah."

Gabriel had nodded and said nothing more as class began.

Now, as it began to wind down, the archangel turned to him again. "So . . . what d'ya think of it, kiddo?"

Sam looked over at him, pulling a book cover onto his textbook. "What do I think of what?" Sam asked, struggling to keep the textbook in place as he stretched the elastic cover across its front.

"The school, Samsquatch."

Sam frowned at the nickname. It wasn't his fault that he was a six foot tall freshman. "Don't call me Samsquatch," he mumbled weakly.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "How about Gigantor?"

"Shut up," Sam snapped. His voice sounded harsher than he had meant for it to, but it got the archangel to shut up. As he finally got his book cover on, Sam let out a breathy sigh. He silently prayed that the teacher would change seats next semester, but something told him he wouldn't be that lucky.

"Sorry I put your panties in a bunch, princess," Gabriel suddenly spoke again.

Sam shot him a glare, but saw genuine remorse on the archangel's face. Even though his voice was sharp, and sarcastic, Sam swore he saw guilt on his face. Not being the type to hold a grudge, Sam let out a small sigh and nodded. "It's okay. I just . . . don't like being tall."

Gabriel snorted. "Are you serious? I would kill to be tall. I'm a freakin' senior. You're a freshman, and standing beside you, I look like a dwarf. If I was tall, I would totally use it to my advantage! Stuff freshman in lockers . . . hide things from shorter people in high places . . . beat up Michael . . . It'd be great!"

Sam had to smirk at Gabriel's ideas. "Well, aren't you some powerful archangel? Can't you just . . . make yourself taller?"

Gabriel smiled ruefully. "I can't really . . . You see, for us angels to be able to inhabit earth, we have to have a vessel. My vessel just happened to be really, really short."

Sam began to smile, but then stopped. "Wait . . . vessel? You mean . . . you're possessing someone?"

The archangel rolled his eyes. "You make it sound so dramatic, kiddo."

"But you are, right?"

"Basically . . . but it's not the same way a demon possesses. They can get inside anyone they want . . . Wow, that sounded wrong. Anyway, angels can't do that. We have to have permission from the human we are going to possess. And this guy – Richard – I asked him if I could use him on earth, and he said yes."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "So . . . these humans wanted this?"

Gabriel nodded. "Yep, pretty much."

Just as he was about to say something else, the bell rung, signifying the end of the period. Sam got up and began to gather his books together. "Hey, kiddo," Gabriel said, watching him closely. "You got a place to sit at lunch?"

Sam brushed his dark brown bangs out of his eyes, and shrugged. "I'll probably just sit with my brother, Dean."

"Oh, okay," the archangel said. His voice sounded oddly tight . . . almost disappointed. "Well, see ya tomorrow, kiddo."

"Yeah . . ." Sam said, watching as the archangel walked toward the door. "See you."

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A/N: Review?


	4. Chapter 4

_Supernatural High - Chapter 4_

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**So . . . LUCI!**

**I hope I did him justice. This is just an introductory chapter where his character is concerned. And it mainly is to introduce his conflict with Michael, which will play a larger part as the story progresses.**

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 4**

Lucifer played with the mashed potatoes on his lunch tray. As much as he would have liked to sit a couple table over with Meg and some of the other demons he had befriended, he knew that he should spend some time with his brothers and sisters as well.

Gabriel was seated to his right, seeming to be lost in thought. Lucifer couldn't help but notice that his younger brother had hardly touched his lunch. Castiel – the youngest of the family – was on the other side of Gabriel looking equally distracted. Before Lucifer could inquire, Balthazar spoke up.

"What is eating you two?" he asked from his seat across the table. Balthazar was sitting on the end of the table, directly across from Lucifer. Raphael was on his left, and Michael was next to Raphael. As Lucifer caught his older brother's gaze, he couldn't help but notice how cold Michael looked. Ever since Lucifer had gotten friendly with Meg and the other demons, Michael had practically shunned him. Lucifer didn't understand why Michael hated demons so much – he never even had a conversation with one! If Michael would just give them a chance—

"Nothing," Gabriel snapped at his younger brother, breaking Lucifer's train of thought.

He looked over at Gabriel. The archangel seemed very distracted and edgy this afternoon. "Yeah, sure, Gabe," Lucifer muttered. "You're perfectly fine."

Gabriel gave him a glare before stabbing his pizza with a fork. "Winchester," he grumbled.

"What was that?" Michael asked gruffly.

Lucifer glowered at his older brother. Since when did Michael care about Gabriel? Since when did Michael care about _anyone_? _If he thinks he can just butt into a conversation and _pretend_ to be a part of this family, then he can suck my dick. He doesn't know what family is. With him, it's always "look out for number one". Douchebag._

"I think he said Winchester," Balthazar commented. "You mean the gun Winchester?"

"He means the family," Castiel suddenly piped up.

Lucifer looked down the table at his younger brother Castiel rarely spoke up, but when he did, it was usually something important. While Lucifer, Gabriel, and Balthazar always liked to BS, the others – Castiel, Michael, Raphael, Anna, and Uriel – were almost always strictly business. Lucifer didn't know how they could live like that. What was life without a little fun? His brothers and sister always acted like having fun was some kind of terrible sin.

"There's a family called the Winchesters?" Michael asked, suddenly very curious.

Lucifer bit back a smart remark and remained silent, glowering at his mashed potatoes.

"Yeah . . . they're humans."

Balthazar let out an amused chuckle. "And I suppose these Winchesters are what has attracted your attention as well, Cassie?" he teased affectionately.

Lucifer watched with amusement as Castiel's ears turned red and he suddenly became very sheepish. "You don't know anything, Balthazar."

"Aww, is Cassie in love?" Uriel teased, giving the smaller angel a rough shove.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. Castiel wasn't his favorite brother – that position belonged to Gabriel and Gabriel alone – but he wasn't his _least_ favorite either, and certainly higher ranking that Uriel. "Leave the kid alone, Uriel," he snapped, somewhat surprised by the venom and finality in his own voice.

Uriel gave him a look, but did as Lucifer asked, and sat there in silence. "Alright, Cassie," Lucifer said with an unusual gentleness in his voice. "Who are these Winchesters and what have they done to my brothers?"

Castiel looked at Lucifer with wide eyes, as if stunned that he was even being addressed. "Oh . . . well . . . earlier today . . . I was sort of . . . challenged."

"By who?" Michael asked, his voice sharp.

"This demon," Castiel said quietly. "His name was Crowley."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. _Of course_ Crowley would immediately seek out the freshman angel and try to terrify him. He could feel Michael's judgmental gaze on him as if he somehow believed that this was Lucifer's fault. "A friend of yours?" Michael asked darkly, glaring at him.

"No," Lucifer answered calmly. "Not _every_ demon is my friend, big brother."

Michael just grunted in response.

"Anyway," Castiel began, looking between his two older brothers nervously. "Crowley was about to . . . 'show me a lesson', when this guy came out of the crowd and told him to leave me alone. His name was Dean Winchester."

Lucifer knew that name. "Fuck," he growled under his breath.

"What?" Castiel asked fearfully.

"I know him," Lucifer nearly groaned. "The guy's an asshole. Why he saved you, I have no idea."

Michael's eyes were narrowed, but not with malevolence for once. Instead, he appeared to be deep in thought. "I think I know him to."

"He's in our first period class," Lucifer explained. He was going to say more, but something across the cafeteria caught his eye. Standing by one of the doors with her back up against the wall was Meg. She was staring directly at him, with a suggestive look on her face.

Lucifer gulped. _Dad, forgive me for I am about to sin, _he thought before looking at his brothers. "Cassie, just stay away from Dean Winchester, he's bad news." With that, he got up from the table and tossed his uneaten food into a nearby trashcan. He knew that Michael and his other siblings were watching him as he walked over to Meg, and, honestly, he didn't care. None of their opinions mattered to him, except maybe Gabriel's. The others could think whatever they want. He knew that Gabriel would understand.

When he reached her, Meg smiled. "I see you got my unspoken message," she nearly purred with a small smile.

"How could I resist you?" Lucifer asked leaning against the wall as well.

Meg smiled. "Wanna get outta here for a bit, angel boy?"

"Hell yeah."

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A/N: Review?


	5. Chapter 5

_Supernatural High - Chapter 5_

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**Hey guys. Since Michael cannot appear as Adam, or as John Winchester, I gave him a new vessel, I guess. Basically, when you try to imagine Michael, just imagine Jamie Campbell Bower. That is who I am basing him on.**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 5**

As the school day came to a close, Adam Milligan walked out school beside his new best friend, Sam Winchester. In fifth period choir, the two boys had gotten to know each other. Choir was a very easy class, which was why Adam took it in the first place. He knew that it would entail little work, and next to no homework. He didn't think that he would get a friend out of the deal.

The moment Sam sat down beside him, Adam had done all the talking. At first, Sam seemed a little shy, replying with one-word answers, and occasionally saying nothing at all. However, after a while, Sam seemed to lighten up and it finally became a two-way conversation. Adam learned the Sam was human – just like him – and was a hunter. Adam knew what hunters were, but had never actually met one before. When he had gotten his invitation to Supernatural High, he had no idea why. His mother had told him that monsters were real, and she seemed to have some kind of knowledge of them that Adam lacked. Adam wasn't sure _why_ they wanted him to go to Supernatural High, and he didn't exactly want to go. He was dreading high school enough as it was; he didn't need to go to one with a bunch of monsters. But his mother didn't leave much room for debate; Adam was going whether he liked it or not, and he had no idea why.

When he told Sam this story, Sam immediately sympathized with him. "Sounds just like my dad," Sam had laughed with bright, blue-green eyes. And then Sam told the story about how he got into hunting, and about how his dad forced him to go to Supernatural High.

From that moment on Adam was determined to be Sam's best friend. As they walked out of school together, Adam said, "We gotta stick together, right? I mean – we're in the same boat."

Sam nodded and opened his mouth to respond when a new voice entered the conversation. "Sammy! Let's go!"

Adam turned to see a man that looked almost like a supermodel. He had short, spiky blond hair, and wore a worn leather jacket. Sam nodded. "I'm coming!" he called back. He then looked at Adam. "Sorry, I gotta go."

With a rueful smile, Adam bid his new friend farewell before walking down the sidewalk in the direction of his house. A chilly breeze, buffeted his hair, and made him shiver slightly. It was still only September, but he knew that autumn was quickly approaching. He strolled at a leisurely pace, taking the time to breathe in the clean, fresh afternoon air.

It was then that he became aware that he was being followed. He could hear footsteps on the sidewalk behind him, and the crazed giggling of fellow students. But it didn't sound happy and carefree; it sounded almost malicious.

"Hey blondie!" a voice called somewhere behind him.

Adam felt a chill go up his spine. These weren't just normal school bullies – they could be monsters that wanted to . . . He immediately sped up, much to the glee of his pursuers.

"Haha! Watch him run!"

Adam kept his head down and walked swiftly until he hit something solid. He looked up to see a boy a few years older than him with dark hair standing there. "Hello human," he sneered, shoving Adam roughly backwards.

Adam tripped over his own feet and hit the ground with a thud. The boy he had ran into towered over him now, and smirked. Without warning, his eyes turned black. Adam gasped quietly; demon.

The others – most likely demons, as well – had caught up now and were laughing. They began to circle Adam like a pack of wolves eyeing their prey. Adam clamped his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists until his knuckles went white. He did the only thing he could think of – the thing his mother always taught him to d0 – pray.

_Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; may God rebuke him, we humbly pray and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander the world for the ruin of souls. Amen._

"Leave him alone," a new, harsh, domineering voice commanded.

Instantly, the demons fled. Adam opened his eyes and watched as they disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, screaming in terror. When they were all gone, Adam shakily tried to stand. His entire body was trembling, which made the action difficult. Just as he was about to fall back to the ground, a strong hand gripped his shoulder.

"Easy," the voice that had once been so forbidding and feral now whispered. It sounded so different . . . so soft and caring.

Adam looked up into the warmest, chocolate-brown eyes he'd ever seen. His savior gave him a small smile, and brushed a strand of blond hair out of his eyes with his free hand. He had a broad, strong build, and chiseled features. The sight of this man nearly struck Adam breathless. "Thank you . . . for saving me," Adam whispered almost sheepishly.

The man smiled and helped Adam to his feet. "It was no trouble – I always like a chance to scare a few demons. Besides, I was kind of obligated to show up."

"Huh?" Adam asked, confused.

The man smiled, his pearly-white teeth now showing. "You prayed to me, after all."

Adam just stared at him, dumbstruck. "Y- _you're_ Michael?"

Michael laughed, a musical laugh that made Adam's heart flutter. "I am. My father thought that it would be . . . beneficial for my siblings and I to . . . attend this . . . educational facility so that we could learn more about the creatures of earth . . . especially humans like yourself."

Adam could hardly believe it. Michael – the archangel – had just saved his life, and was now having a conversation with him!

"Your . . . siblings?" Adam asked. He was disgusted at how feminine he sounded. He hated how his body immediately betrayed him – showing everyone exactly how he felt on the inside, and in that moment, he happened to be in absolute awe of the angel in front of him.

Michael smiled wryly. "Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel, Zachariah, Balthazar, Uriel, Anna, and Castiel."

"Oh . . . of course."

"We were just about to head home to Heaven when I got your prayer," Michael informed him.

"Oh . . ." Adam repeated. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Michael insisted. "It was no trouble – besides, I couldn't exactly . . . not help you. You always used to pray to me, remember?"

Adam did remember. When he was a little boy, every night, he would say an angel to St. Michael, the archangel, asking for protection from all things wicked. He said that prayer faithfully every night until a couple years ago. After a particularly rough period in his life, Adam had stopped praying all together thinking that there was no one there to listen – that no one cared . . . I guess now he knew that that wasn't the case.

"Yeah . . ." Adam murmured, not sure what else to say. Should he apologize for not praying anymore?

Michael looked around, seeming to sense the awkwardness he had brought upon them. "Would you like me to walk you home, Adam?" he asked with no fear, and no embarrassment.

Adam on the other hand, felt his cheeks turn red. Was an archangel really offering to _walk him home_? He thought he might die. "Oh . . . I don't think that's necessary, um . . . sir . . ."

The archangel laughed again. Adam smiled at the sound. He wanted to hear Michael's laughter more. It was so pure, and so beautiful . . . _Wait, did I just think that?_ the human wondered with alarm.

"Call me Michael," the angel implored.

"Okay . . . Michael," Adam murmured. He had said that name so many times before – in prayer, and in everyday conversation – and yet know, it held so much more meaning.

"Come on," the angel said, gently guiding Adam in the direction of his house. "I insist that I accompany you to your house, just in case those demons decide to return."

Adam didn't know what to do except to nod. _If he wants to walk me home . . . let him. I can't hurt anyone, right? Besides . . . I wouldn't mind spending some more time with him._

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A/N: Review?


	6. Chapter 6

Supernatural High

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**Sorry this chapter is so short. :c**

**School has started.**

**Yuck.**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 6**

Castiel expected his second day of high school to be just as bad – if not worse – than his first. However, as he made his way up to his locker, he found that things were different. He found himself slightly more comfortable . . . He knew where things were now, and he wasn't scrambling around at the last minute. For a while, he actually thought that he might have a good day, and make some friends.

But of course, this little burst of confidence could not last long.

As he made his way down the hall towards first periods, he spied a group of demons coming in the opposite direction Cas kept his head down, doing his best to look insignificant; to blend in. Unfortunately, his . . . choice of clothing stuck out like a sore thumb. In passing, one of the demons roughly bumped Cas, causing the books he carried to spill out of his arms and all over the floor of the hall.

"Whoops," the demon sneered. "Sorry 'bout that." With that being said, the demon and the rest of his posse continued walking, laughing to themselves.

Cas sighed and watched them go. When he was certain that they wouldn't return to give him more trouble, Cas got down on his knees and began to gather up his materials.

"Need some help, angel?"

Cas looked up to see Dean Winchester standing over him with a somewhat sympathetic expression. Castiel couldn't help but stare at the man in front of him before sheepishly looking down at his books. "I thought the last thing you'd want to do is help an angel," Cas murmured, scrambling to pick up his books before Dean got a chance to help.

The human chuckled and knelt down to help. "I said that I thought most angels were dicks," he reminded. "I never said that you were one."

Cas didn't reply immediately, mulling over Dean's words. Lucifer had told him to stay away from this Winchester; he said that he was bad news. Lucifer was a cruel trickster at times, but Cas doubted tha the he had been lying. Why would he have?

"Here," Dean said quietly, handing over the notebooks and other materials he'd gathered. "And don't thank me."

Taking the supplies, Cas got to his feet and nodded at Dean. "You didn't have to stop and help," he murmured. Castiel almost squinted while looking at Dean; his soul was so bright and so distracting.

"Yeah well . . . Consider that me sayin' sorry for bein' such a dick yesterday," Dean said with a small smile. "Does that make up for it?" He looked at Castiel with shimmering evergreen eyes. He was rather handsome.

Cas couldn't help but smile slightly. "I suppose," he murmured, shifting the materials in his arms. "Are we on good terms, then?"

Dean smirked. "I guess, angel. So, I haven't seen you around often . . . What grade are you in?"

"Freshman," Cas answered. They were walking down the hall now in the direction of Cas' locker. Cas felt his stomach flutter with a new, alien emotion as they walked along. Dean Winchester was talking to him. "You're a senior, right?"

"Yeah," Dean said, smiling. He seemed pleased that Cas knew that about him. "How'd ya know?"

"My brothers told me," Cas answered honestly. "Michael and Lucifer – they're in your first period."

"Oh," Dean said, his face darkening slightly at the mention of other angels. "Yeah, I know them." Cas expected a smart remark about angels, but it didn't come. Dean seemed to be trying very hard to keep his opinions about angels to himself for Cas' sake.

"They said you were bad news," Cas said. He meant for it to be teasing, but his deep voice made him sound so serious.

Dean laughed anyway. He even threw his head back. Cas felt heat rush to his cheeks. _Father . . . this man is so beautiful. He must be your greatest creation._ "So, they're worried that I'm gonna be the bad body that corrupts poor little Castiel?" he chuckled.

Cas grinned but looked at his shoes.

The bell rang. First period was in five minutes.

Dean gave Cas a friendly pat on the shoulder. His touch sent a pleasurable electric shock through the angel's body. "Well, I'll see ya around, Castiel."

"Cas."

"Huh?"

"You can call me Cas . . . Dean." The man's name felt odd on his tongue . . . but not in a bad way.

"Okay, cool. Hey, Cas—" Cas shivered at the sound of his own name passing from Dean Winchester's lips "—Do you wanna sit with my brother and I at lunch today?"

Cas gulped. He didn't know if he should sit with his family, or sit with Dean . . . He wanted to sit with Dean . . . He really did, but . . . "I usually sit with my brothers and sister, but . . . If you want me to sit with you and your brother, I can."

Dean looked confused for a second. "That a yes, or a no?"

"Yes."

Dean smiled widely. It was so vibrant. It made Cas happy to see Dean pleased. "Cool. See you at lunch, Cas."

Cas watched him go, feeling a little sheepish. His heart felt as if it had swelled three times its normal size. For a few moments, he feared it was going to burst, but he decided he didn't care. He was going to sit with Dean Winchester.

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A/N: Review?


	7. Chapter 7

_Supernatural High - Chapter 7_

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**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 7**

Dean couldn't stop fidgeting and he didn't know why. He wasn't even paying attention to the food on his lunch tray, not that he would be interested in it in the first place. Dean knew that whatever on his tray sure as hell wasn't chicken – the company just _called_ them chicken nuggets. For all Dean knew he could be eating eyeball, liver, or even a chicken penis.

_Do chickens even have—_

Dean stopped himself before he finished that thought. He didn't want to know.

"Dude, does your butt itch or something?" Sam asked, giving his brother a hard, calculating stare. Sam's new BFF, Adam Milligan sat next to him. The blond freshman hadn't said a word since he sat down. He kept looking between his food, Dean, and somewhere off into the distance, possibly at another table. When Sam asked that, Adam looked at Dean with a an almost fearful look on his face, as if he was afraid that Dean would attack him, or something.

Dean gave Sam a murderous glare before shaking his head. "No." He hadn't told Sam – and especially not his new friend – that Cas was supposed to join them for lunch. He tried to tone down his nervousness and began to eat a cup of orange Jello that the lunch lady had put on his tray.

After five minutes of waiting, Dean was sure that Cas had stood him up. For a little while, he actually felt bad about it. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't help but feel a little down that Cas hadn't shown up.

Just as he was about to abandon all hope, he saw the nerdy little angel approaching their table with a tray of food in his hands. Dean immediately smiled and waved him over. Both Sam and Adam turned to look, and Cas stopped short, as if suddenly embarrassed. Dean beckoned him again, hoping that his brother and his dorky friend wouldn't scare him off.

Cas reached the table, mumbled a hello, and sat down on Dean's side of the table. "Everybody, this is Castiel – he's an angel."

Sam nodded at him, seeming to quickly lose interest. Adam, however, was staring at Castiel in wonder. "Cas, this is my brother Sam, and his friend, Adam."

Cas met Adam's gaze and cocked his head to the side. Before Dean could stop himself, he thought about how Cas actually looked . . . a little cute when he did that. _The hell are you thinkin'?_ he snarled at himself. _You're not gay. Why would you think that?_

"You are the boy Michael saved," Cas said suddenly.

Adam looked down sheepishly. Dean swore that the kid's face was turning red. "Oh . . . yeah, I prayed to him when these demons were coming after me, and he . . . saved me."

Cas then looked at Sam. "And you are the boy my brother keeps thinking about."

Sam's head shot up. "What?"

"My brother, Gabriel," Cas said simply, as if it were common knowledge. "You make him nervous."

Now, Dean grew concerned. "What do you mean Sam makes him nervous? Does your brother have the hots for mine, or something?" he asked hotly.

Sam suddenly got up from the table and made a beeline for the exit. Adam got up a second later and followed him, clearly not wanting to be left alone with Dean and Cas.

Cas watched them leave, his brow furled in confusion. "What did I do?"

"I think you just embarrassed your brothers," Dean said. One thing was for sure: he had to find which of those angels had their eye on Sam and, more importantly, how Sam felt about them.

"So, Dean," Cas suddenly said. He sounded smaller now, almost scared. "Why did you invite me here?"

Dean faltered for a moment. Why _had_ he invited him? "I just . . . wanted to get to know you, that's all. I mean, I did save your skin after all."

Cas nodded, and Dean let out a sigh of relief. At least it made sense to the angel.

"Dean, why did you get so angry when I mentioned that Gabriel got nervous around Sam?" Cas asked, looking at him again with inquisitive eyes.

"Because Sam's my little brother," Dean replied simply. "And if some angel's crushing on him, I wanna know about it!"

"Crushing?" Cas repeated. Dean could almost hear the click in the kid's head as he put two and two together. "Oh, no! Gabriel doesn't like Sam _that_ way. He couldn't."

"Why?" Dean asked, defensively. "My brother not good enough for him?"

Cas shut his mouth then and looked at the table. "I've offended you," he whispered. "And I offer my sincerest apologies."

"God, Cas—"

"Don't speak of my father in that manner."

Dean rolled his eyes then. _Angels._ "I didn't mean it like that. I just . . . You don't have to be so serious all the time. Brighten up a bit, buddy. Stop being a stick in the mud."

"Brighten up? I do not understand. I already am rather bright – at least in my true form. I could blind you, actually," Cas said, looking back up at Dean. He looked so confused, and his lower lip stuck out slightly. Dean gulped and looked away. The kid _was_ kind of cute.

"No, I mean . . . Don't take things so seriously. Be happy and shit."

Cas still looked confused, but said no more. They ate the rest of their lunch in silence.

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When lunch came to an end, they both rose, and Dean felt obligated to say something. "So . . . thanks for sitting with me today, Cas," he said shoving his hands in his pockets as they left the cafeteria. Dean tried not to dwell on the fact that Cas was still beside him, and was less than an inch away.

Cas looked at him, again with that confused expression. "But, I angered Sam and Adam and chased them off."

"Ah, don't worry about them. Sammy's always got a stick up his butt, and that Adam kid I just met. He seems a little weird to me anyway."

"Sam has a stick up his butt? That must be extremely painful."

Dean face-palmed. "Cas, Sam doesn't actually have a stick up his butt. It's a saying."

"Oh."

Dean walked Cas all the way to his locker, not even noticing that he had until they were there. Dean was just about to say good-bye when a voice cut into their conversation.

"Befriending the squirrel, I see?"

Both Dean and Cas turned to see Crowley standing there. Two of his demonic goons flanked him. The trio was dressed in all black, and Crowley looked more pompous than usual. "What do you want, Crowley?" Dean almost growled. For a moment, he was shocked by the venom in his voice. He stepped in front of Castiel protectively, his body already on the defensive. Cas stood slightly behind him, staring at Crowley with a hard expression. Dean could tell that the angel was trying his hardest to remain calm and collected like his protector, but Dean could see the panic in his eyes too.

Crowley looked at Dean with a bored expression. "Step back, Squirrel. This is none of your business. This is strictly between me and Wings, here."

"Well 'Wings' is with me," Dean said simply. "So, if you want him, you're gonna have to go through me. Got it?"

Crowley smiled, and let out a small chuckle. "Aw, isn't that sweet? The human and the angel. Wasn't there a book series about that, or something?"

"Crowley, I do not understand why you insist on making something out of nothing," Cas said firmly. "I am an angel of the Lord, and you are a demon. This will not end well for you. Leave now and my brothers and I may show mercy."

Dean looked at Cas, his mouth hanging open. He knew that Cas was brave – he had seen that the first day they met. But he hadn't realized that he was capable of being a total badass.

Crowley's smirk faded and the situation became suddenly very serious. "You are engaging in a dangerous game, Castiel. If I were you, I'd watch yourself."

Cas stood his ground. "No, you are the one who should be watching yourself, Crowley. The moment I tell my brothers – Michael, Lucifer, and Gabriel especially – they will consider you their enemy. Just be prepared for that if you intend to take this altercation further."

For a moment, Dean wasn't sure if Crowley was planning to back down or not. But then, he narrowed his eyes. "This isn't over, Castiel. One day when you're all alone – when you're brothers are too busy to care, or when your human isn't at your side, or once he loses interest – I'll be there. And then, we will settle this little dispute."

With that, Crowley stalked off down the hallway, his demon henchmen following close behind.

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A/N: Review?


	8. Chapter 8

_Supernatural High - Chapter 8_

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**Sorry this one is a bit short.**

**By the way.**

**I am aware the Sam and Gabriel are moving fast, but it isn't because I'm lazy, or anything like that. Sam is young and he hasn't experienced anything like this before, and this is just him getting his first taste of it. Things won't go as smoothly as they think it will. :)**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 8**

Sam was pacing back and forth with a certain archangel on his mind. He had told Adam to go back to lunch, or just go do something productive. He felt bad for sending his new friend away, but Sam needed to be alone. He needed to think about what he'd recently learned. With a sigh, he ceased pacing and turned to look in the mirror. What he saw was an un-extraordinary fifteen-year-old boy with shaggy hair and dull eyes staring at him. Why did Gabriel pay so much attention to him? Why did he make the archangel _nervous_ as Castiel had said? He wasn't special.

He was a freak.

He was a human who knew about things most humans shouldn't know about.

The door of the restroom swung open then when a fairly loud squeak. Sam glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see Adam standing there. Instead, it was the subject of all his thoughts: Gabriel.

"Oh," the archangel said with a small, knowing smirk. "Hey Sam, I didn't know you were here . . ." Gabriel's face then became very serious. "Hey . . . are you okay?"

Sam hadn't realized that he'd been staring at the archangel like a deer in headlights until it was too late. "Oh . . . uh, yeah. Just thinking." Sam found himself fumbling and tripping over his words – something that rarely happened. Sam was always so direct and always seemed to know what to say. But not now. Sam was too lost in Gabriel's warm, whiskey-brown eyes. He was so . . . Sam couldn't think of a word to describe him.

_Why does he care so much?_ Sam wondered. What had he done to deserve this magnificent creature's attention? He was nothing – a freaky human that the black sheep of his family. He wasn't special. He wasn't important. He was an insignificant ant in a massive colony. And Gabriel had singled him out, if what Castiel said held any truth.

The archangel's face softened considerably. "About what? I already know, though," he added a few moments later.

Sam froze. His pulse suddenly accelerated, and he felt his face grow hot. "Um . . . what?"

"I can read minds, Sam," the archangel told him with a smirk. "I know what you've been thinking about: me. I occupy almost every single thought of yours, don't I? Ever since our conversation yesterday – I've been on your brain, nagging at you like an itch you can't stop, right? Well, guess what Samsquatch, I've been thinking about you too."

Sam's mouth went try. "What do you mean?"

"Sam . . ." Gabriel let out a breathy, almost irritated sigh. It was if he was having a difficult time saying what he wanted to. "You're . . ." He sighed again, but this time it was one of resignation. "Sam, you are the most amazing human I've ever met."

Sam just stared at him, his mouth gaping. "What?"

"I've read your mind – sorry about not giving you a head's up about that, by the way. But . . . the way you think – Your heart is so good and kind. And Sam, you aren't un-extraordinary. And you most certainly _are not_ a freak! You're the most beautiful – I mean . . . your mind is the most beautiful thing . . . I've been around a lot of humans, Sam . . . and I've never met one like you. I've met one so selfless, so brave, and so . . . tall."

Sam couldn't help but let out a laugh at the past part. He couldn't believe it. _This . . . This is a dream,_ he thought. _This has to be a dream._

"It's not a dream, Sam," Gabriel responded, as if Sam had spoken it aloud. "I've only know you for two days, and I can't stop thinking about you. I've never met anyone like you, Sam . . . And I never want to let you go."

He stared down at the archangel, trying to wrap his brain around what was happening. Gabriel was . . . what? Admitting something to him? Admitting that he . . . liked him? Sam's heart swelled at the thought. A smile crept onto his lips and refused to fade. He felt . . . happy, but he didn't know why. Gabriel was a _guy_, and Sam wasn't gay! But . . . how could he deny what he felt? How could he deny this wonderful, bubbly, warm feeling in his chest?

"Gabriel," Sam began, but he suddenly found himself cut off by a pair of lips. The archangel's lips were latched onto his, and devouring them hungrily. Sam could hardly take it. _I'm not gay,_ he said to himself. _I'm not gay . . . I'm not gay . . ._ He repeated it in his head over and over again like a mantra. But the feeling of Gabriel's lips . . . the rush and the passion behind it made Sam's head swim. Eventually, his mantra was lost in the myriad of other, dirtier thoughts that swarmed his brain.

The archangel's hands had wrapped around Sam's neck, and Sam found his own hands resting on the angel's hips. Gabriel's lips tasted faintly of sugar, and became as addictive as a drug. Sam was giving in, and he didn't care anymore. He didn't want to stop. Gabriel's hands found their way into Sam's hair, and they began to tug at the locks. Sam let out a breathy sigh into the archangel's mouth, and pulled Gabriel closer, his arms locking around his waist. Gabriel let out a small moan and held Sam tighter.

Sam couldn't take it anymore. He felt his pants growing steadily tighter. Instinct took over, and he shoved Gabriel up against the wall of the boys' restroom. Gabriel let out an even louder moan at that. The pair began to kiss more heatedly – more hungrily.

Neither knew how long they remained like that – Gabriel pinned to the wall, and their lips moving toward in this erotic dance, but it was the bell that signified the end of lunch that caused them to break apart. Both boys stood there, breathing breathless, flushed, and smiling stupidly at one another. Sam's head was reading' on Gabriel's forehead, and they both stared into each other's eyes.

"Damn, kid," Gabriel laughed after a few moments. "Where the hell did you learn that?"

Sam let out a small laugh. "I didn't learn it . . . I just kind of . . . did it?"

Gabriel smiled and straightened up then. Sam pulled back, giving the smaller boy room to breathe. "Well . . ." Gabriel said softly. "I wouldn't mind doing that again, Samsquatch."

_You're not gay,_ Sam's mind tried to tell him. But Sam wasn't listening to that anymore. He considered Gabriel's words for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Never been more sure about anything," Gabriel answered earnestly.

"Okay . . ." Sam allowed. "But on one condition."

The archangel arched a playful eyebrow. "Is it whips and chains?"  
"No, you dick," Sam snapped, but he laughed as he said it. "No more name-calling. No more Samsquatch."

Gabriel's face fell, but nodded. "Fine . . . if that's the price I have to pay. Meet me here tomorrow? Same time?"

Sam found it kind of amusing that this had apparently become their meeting spot. He should have been repulsed by the idea. He should have told Gabriel to leave him alone. He should have walked away. He should have never gotten into this mess. But he did. And he was loving every second of it so far. "Okay. I'll be waiting for you."

Gabriel smiled again, and blew Sam a kiss. "See ya later, bae."

Sam watched Gabriel go and shook his head. _Did an archangel of the Lord really just call me "bae"?_

There was only one thing that Sam Winchester knew for certain: he wasn't gay . . . but for Gabriel . . . he might consider it.

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A/N: Review?


	9. Chapter 9

_Supernatural High - Chapter 9_

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**I do not own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 9**

"Dammit, Lucifer," Michael swore as they returned to Heaven. The second day of school came and went, and Lucifer was finding it more and more difficult to stand his older brother. I mean, he made one mistake, and suddenly he was the "bad guy". Lilith was _hot!_ So what if she was Adam's wife? Then of course, Lilith when dark side, and then Dad had to make Even to replace her, but it was _worth it_. Lucifer served his time in Hell as punishment, but he got out on good behavior! Dad had taken pity on him, and allowed him back in Heaven. And Lucifer was trying his best – he really was – to make things right with his brothers and sisters, and with his Father.

Everyone seemed to welcome him back . . . everyone except Michael.

"Oh, _what_ did I do wrong this time, Michael?" Lucifer demanded, rounding on his older brother.

Michael stopped short, seeming almost insulted that Lucifer had spoken back to him. "First of all, I saw you sneaking off with that demon bitch again today."

Lucifer lost it. An angel blade appeared in his hand, and he glowered at his brother. "Michael, don't talk about Meg that way."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot she had the nerve to use a _human _name! After all, she is just riding some poor girl. But you don't care about _that_ do you, Lucifer?" Michael sneered.

"Like _you_ care about what happens to those meat-suits!" Lucifer snarled back. It was quite possible that his brother was the biggest hypocrite on earth, and in Heaven. "You don't care what happens to them any more than the demons do, so before you go criticizing my _girlfriend_ why don't you stop being a hypocrite, and act the way you say you do?"

Michael didn't laugh, he just stared evenly at his younger brother.

Lucifer could have left it alone there, but he wasn't done. "You see corruption and evil and hatred everywhere except inside yourself, Michael. I _know_ what I did! I _know _I rebelled against Dad! I _know_ that what I did was wrong, and I _owned up to it!_ So why can't you accept that?"

"Because you don't mean that," Michael replied sharply. "You say you owned up to it, but you don't regret it. You did penance in the cage, but it was forced. You don't feel bad for what you did. You are not remorseful – you never were. You are not honest, and it is because of that that I can never forgive you for what you did. Father gave you a second chance, perhaps against his better judgment, because you were his favorite son. If I ever dared to do what you did, I would never get a second chance. Father would have never let me out of the cage. But he let you out. And you have everyone fooled – but not me. I know who and what you are, Lucifer. You are a liar, a traitor, and I can never trust you again."

Before Lucifer could even think of a response to that, Michael was gone with a flutter of wings.

Lucifer looked at the ground and let out a tired sigh. When his Father had let him out of the cage, he had been so relieved . . . so overjoyed. He was _free_. He could return to Heaven. And here he was – in his home . . . He thought that things would be different – that they would be better. But they weren't. Michael hated him . . . and even now, after all these years, and after all that had gone on between then, Lucifer valued Michael's opinion above all others. And knowing that his own brother couldn't stand him . . . didn't trust him.

_Maybe Dad wasn't trying to give me a second chance; maybe he was just trying to bring me more torment. Sending me home to Michael who hates me . . . I can't imagine a more despicable hell._

"Lucifer," Gabriel's voice called him back to the present.

The archangel looked up to see his younger brother watching him with solicitous eyes. "Are you . . . okay?"

Lucifer knew that he should tell his brother the truth – be honest with him . . . But the last thing he wanted was to worry his little brother more than necessary. "Yes, I'm . . . I'm okay."

Gabriel arched an unconvinced eyebrow, but seemed to let it go. Then Lucifer noticed something odd about his brother. He seemed to be . . . glowing. Yes, his grace was shining brighter than normal. "Gabriel . . . are _you_ okay?"

His brother gave him a weird look. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Your grace is shining brighter than I've ever seen it," Lucifer commented.

Gabriel got very quiet then. He almost seemed to be . . . sheepish. "Oh . . . well . . . It's nothing you need to be concerned about, brother. Trust me, I'm fine – better than fine, actually."

"And what brought this on?" Lucifer continued to inquire. _There is something he's not telling me . . . Something important . . . and he doesn't seem to want me to know it. I could read his mind . . . but that would be violating his trust. Michael hates me, I don't need Gabriel to have a grudge against me as well, but . . ._ Lucifer mulled over this option for a few more seconds.

During this time, Gabriel replied, "Oh, nothing really. Just having a really good day, that's all."

"Sure," Lucifer answered, clearly unconvinced. He couldn't take it anymore, he narrowed his eyes, and focused his energy on Gabriel's thoughts. Lucifer felt his grace stretch as he got a stream of Gabriel's thoughts.

_Lucifer saw everything from Gabriel's perspective. He was in the boys restroom at school. The next thing Lucifer saw was a boy – taller than Gabriel, but definitely younger. Lucifer also knew that the boy was human – he could tell by the flush on his cheeks, and the sound of his pounding heart. Gabriel had paid attention to that – the way the boy's heart was fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. He also paid attention to the boys sweet scent. Lucifer also thought he caught a trace of arousal in the air._

_ And then what happened next made Lucifer nearly hiss in disgust. They were kissing – Gabriel and this _human._ Their lips were fighting against one another, their hands grasping and pulling at each other. Their labored breaths mingled into one consecutive gasp whenever they broke for a small gulp of air. _

_ And then Gabriel was pushed again the wall. Lucifer felt Gabriel's own heart began to pound with lust. His brother's vessel was going wild with passion – new hormones were being secreted in the brain, the heart rate continued to accelerate, and his pants began to feel rather tight in the crotch area._

_ Lucifer could also make out Gabriel's inner thoughts during this time. _Sam,_ he kept thinking. _Sam, oh . . . Sam . . . FUCK! This kid's gonna . . . Father, forgive me for this._ Gabriel's thoughts then became incoherent – unintelligible. They were a mixture of abstract images of pleasure – flashes of what Gabriel planned to do with this human in the future._

Lucifer couldn't take it anymore. He pulled out of Gabriel's thoughts, recoiling from his brother with disgust.

"WERE YOU INSIDE MY HEAD!?" Gabriel shouted. Clearly Lucifer's invasion into his brother's private thoughts was not as discreet as he would have liked.

Lucifer did the best he could to purge those memories from his head, but one thought remained: the boy's name. _Sam. This is the name of the human that's corrupted my brother!_ "And it's a good thing I did!" Lucifer shouted in reply. "What did you do, Gabriel!? You . . . with a human?! Are you mad?"

Gabriel stood up straight. "It's my life, Lucifer. And if I want to be with a human, than who's gonna stop me?" he challenged.

Lucifer glowered at him. "I will," he stated firmly. "No brother of mine is going to be whoring around with a _human_!"

"You will do no such thing, Lucifer," Gabriel snapped, stepping up so he was almost toe-to-toe with his brother. "If you lay a hand on Sam, I swear to Dad, I will never forgive you! Do you hear me, brother?"

For a moment, Lucifer paused. Now Gabriel was mad at him too! But who could blame Lucifer for acting this way? Humans were broken, flawed, violent, awful creatures! Gabriel deserved _much_ better! But was that a good enough reason to lose Gabriel's affections? _He'll thank me later, _Lucifer tried to tell himself, but he wasn't so sure. "I hear you," he muttered before stalking off. He needed to find someone _sane_ to talk to for a change.

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A/N: Review?


	10. Chapter 10

_Supernatural High - Chapter 10_

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**I don't own Supernatural**

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**Chapter 10**

Adam Milligan was sitting in his bedroom, perusing through one of his textbooks. On the third day of school, he was already having a quiz. Of course, he still had an entire night to study for it, but that didn't make it okay. It was during his "study time" that the archangel that had saved him the day before just decided to drop in.

The boy wouldn't have even heard the angel enter if it were not for the distinctive flapping of wings. And there he was – Michael was just standing there. In his bedroom. Adam nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed. "Michael?!" he said in disbelief.

Michael seemed disinterested in his reaction, and was looking around Adam's room curiously. It was a little cluttered. Baseball and basketball trophies lined a wooden shelf on the western wall, and various packs and jackets hung off the side of the shelves. Michael examined these for a moment before going to inspect Adam's dresser. A mirror was mounted over the dresser, but Michael was hardly interested in that. Instead, he looked at the various comic books and novels stacked on top of the dresser itself.

"Um," Michael said, unsure of how to react to having an archangel in his room. "Not that I'm not glad to see you—" Adam swore he saw Michael grin at this "—but what are you doing here?"

"Needed a break from my siblings," Michael replied, as if it were obvious. He continued to look around Adam's room, studying everything in it except for Adam himself. "I thought I would come visit you. Any more demon trouble?"

Adam found that strange. _Michael . . . came to visit me? Why would he do that?_ "Um . . . no, not since you scared their pants off."

Michael smiled again. Adam liked it when he smiled.

"So they've left you alone – good. However, you might want to . . . keep your eyes open for a while, just to be sure. If you ever need help, or find yourself in jam, just pray to me. I'll be there," Michael told him. He looked at him then. Adam was nearly struck breathless by Michael's bright, crystalline-blue eyes.

"Oh," Adam said, feeling a little awkward. How was he supposed to respond to that? "Um, thanks I guess. I appreciate that you want to look out for me but . . . why?"

Michael faced him, finally giving the human his upmost attention. "I . . . do not understand," he confessed. "What do you mean 'why'?"

Adam faltered for a moment. How could he say this? "I just . . . I don't understand why you're . . . interested in me. I mean – like, not . . . _interested_ but . . . I mean, I don't know why you care whether I live or die. No offense to you and all your siblings, but . . . angels don't exactly watch over humans the way everyone likes to think. If you did . . . wouldn't there be less death and less heartbreak?"

Michael was quiet for a long time afterwards. He seemed to be trying to think of a sufficient answer, and simply not finding one. "Adam . . ." he said resignedly. "My Father created a . . . natural order of things. There are certain things that me and my siblings are not permitted to interfere with. Really, we aren't supposed to intervene at all."

"Then why did you save me?" Adam queried. "People pray to you every day. Why did you come to me?"

Michael avoided his gaze again, and suddenly became very interested in Adam's bedroom floor. "I . . . I can't answer that."

Adam frowned. "Well, if you're not going to answer, than you can kindly get out of my room." He wasn't going to sit here and listen to some angel dance around his questions.

"Adam," Michael said. He honestly sounded . . . hurt.

"If you aren't going to tell me the truth then . . . I don't think we can be friends. I need people to be honest with me," Adam stated firmly. He stood up and squared off with the archangel boldly. "Now leave." Adam expected Michael to get furious, to scold him for being so disrespectful, or to just leave. Instead, the archangel stood there, with a confused and slightly disappointed expression.

"I have upset you. I'm sorry," Michael said stiffly. Adam wouldn't have been surprised if this was the first time Michael had ever spoken those words.

Adam scrutinized Michael for a few seconds. His heart was pounding in his chest; he hadn't realized how small his room was until now. It felt like the walls were pressing in around them, pushing the human and the angel closer together. "Just . . . please tell me," Adam said, his voice barely above a whisper. He feared that if he spoke any louder, his voice might crack, or betray his discomfort.

Michael stepped even closer; he was less than a foot away. Adam's head began to swim. He couldn't take this. He couldn't deal with it; he felt like he was going to combust. Michael's eyes tightened; the archangel seemed to be warring within himself. Finally, he spoke: "Adam, I am not supposed to be here. I am not supposed to be with any human. I was not supposed to save you. We are not . . . supposed to interfere, as I've already stated."

"Then why did you?" Adam demanded. He was getting tired of Michael avoiding the question. Why couldn't he just _say _it?

"Because I recognized your voice," Michael said softly. He wasn't looking at Adam anymore, but at his hands. Adam noticed that the archangel was wringing them tightly, leaving red marks on his skin. "When you were young, and you prayed to me . . . I always listened. I . . . I liked listening to your prayers. They were . . . so innocent – so honest. All you wanted was for your mother to be happy – to not have to work so hard. All you wanted was for your father to be okay. You were never selfish. You always asked me to look after your parents. You never once asked for anything for yourself. It was so . . . refreshing to hear that. And I . . . I watched over you specifically, even though I was not supposed to."

Adam stood there, rigid. _Is this . . . ? No, Michael can't be saying . . ._

"Angels, we . . . we aren't supposed to grow attached to humans. We aren't supposed to grow close to them, but I was drawn to you. I couldn't escape it – I couldn't break the hold you had on me. I always thought that I was . . . invincible. I thought that nothing could weaken me – nothing could ever . . . control me. And I was wrong. I am bound to you, Adam Milligan; bound in ways I cannot even begin to understand, and I have no idea why."

"Michael—"

"Don't," the archangel interrupted, putting a finger to the human's lips. Adam froze, his heart was thundering now. It was so loud he was certain that Michael could hear it. Heat flushed his cheeks, and his stomach began to flutter. Michael was moving closer and closer. His lips were an inch from Adam's . . .

"Adam!"

_WHOOSH!_

Michael was gone.

Adam stood there breathless, red-faced, and about ready to fall over. A few moments later, Adam's mother, Kate, opened the door. She gave Adam a quick once-over, seeming a bit perplexed by his appearance. "Are you okay?"

Unable to speak just yet, he nodded.

"Well . . . good. You're father's here. Come say hi."

Adam nodded again and watched with relief as Kate disappeared. When she was gone, he let out a sigh of relief and collapsed on his bed. The fifteen-year-old was certain that he couldn't take much more of this angel crap. Michael was going to give him a heart attack.

After a few minutes of trying to compose himself, Adam headed downstairs to greet his father. Adam never had a real relationship with his father. Adam knew from the beginning that he was an accident – completely unintended. He knew that his father, John, hadn't asked to have a kid. And yet, here Adam was. To John's credit, he _did_ try. He could have just left, paid child support, and never showed his face. But he did come and visit. He _tried_ to be a part of Adam's life. Kate had told him that John moved around a lot because of his work, so it was hard for him to visit. Adam accepted that, even though he wished that John could be around more.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw John standing in the entranceway. Kate was standing next to him, and they were making small talk. Adam couldn't hear what they were saying, but when he came into view, they stopped. "Hey, kiddo," John greeted him with a small smile.

Adam didn't return the friendly greeting.

"Adam, your father came all this way, aren't you going to say anything?" Kate asked.

John raised up a hand, telling her to stop. "How is school going?"

"Okay," Adam responded, not even bothering to delve into the details.

"Adam got into a very special high school," Kate relayed, clearly trying to get the father and son to at least have a conversation.

"Really?" John said, sounding genuinely surprised and pleased.

"Yeah," Adam murmured.

"What's it called?" John asked gently. It seemed like he was doing his best not to pry, but was interested in what his son was doing these days.

"Supernatural High," Adam told him flatly.

Immediately, John blanched. "What?"

"Supernatural High," Adam said again, this time sounding a bit confused.

"YOU LET HIM GO THERE?!" John roared, rounding on Kate.

"Hey!" Adam shouted, rushing down the rest of the stairs to try to get in between his parents.

"WHY WOULD YOU PUT HIM THROUGH THAT?!" John demanded.

"Because he needed to know!" Kate shouted back. "He needed to know what was out there so he can protect himself!"

John was livid, but he made no move to physically attack her. Adam was still in between them, ready to shove John away from Kate if he had to. "I like it there!" Adam suddenly piped up.

His father looked down at him with a confused expression. "What?"

"I said I like it there! I have friends that actually like me!" Adam was shouting now. For a moment, he feared that John would make him leave Supernatural High. That meant he would never see Sam again. Michael might follow him but . . . He didn't want to lose Sam, or Dean for that matter. "Sam and Dean – I sit with them at lunch! Sam's in my grade, and he's my best friend! And I am not leaving. I don't care if there are demons, and vampires, and werewolves, and all of that other crazy stuff! Because, believe it or not, I _fit in_ there! It's the one place I've gone that I haven't felt awkward, or out-of-place. People _like_ me – at least Sam does! And you don't have any right to tell me, or my mother what to do! You're never even here. So, before you start acting like you can dictate my life, why don't you start acting like a father!"

John just stood there, stunned. After a long time, he let out a small laugh. Adam glowered at him. "What?"

His father shook his head. "You just . . . reminded me of these two kids I know, that's all. You're a lot like them both . . ." John didn't say anymore, he just looked at Kate and sighed. "You keep an eye on him," was all he said before he walked out the door, leaving Kate and Adam standing there in bewilderment.

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A/N: Review?

Oh, and prepare for a chapter spam.


	11. Chapter 11

_Supernatural High - Chapter 11_

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**I don't own Supernatural.**

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Chapter 11

The school year wore on. August became September. The temperatures began to drop. The leaves began to change color. And Castiel was beginning to fall in love with Dean Winchester.

Each day, they sat at the same lunch table. Cas knew that his brothers and sisters were concerned that he was spending so much time with a human, but he honestly could have cared less. He was tired of trying to live up to their expectations. _I'm going to spend time with humans for a change; they're much kinder than angels, _he would think whenever one of his brothers or sisters began to question him.

Cas also noted a change in Gabriel. His older brother seemed to be paying a lot of attention to the younger Winchester. Every now and then, Dean would notices as well, and would question Castiel about it. "Does . . . your brother have the hots for my brother?" Castiel would always answer that he wasn't certain, but it didn't sound like Gabriel. The last part was a bit of a lie, but Cas believed that it was warranted. If Dean knew that Cas believed that Gabriel _was_ in fact in love with Sam, what would ensue would be very . . . bloody.

But what Gabriel did with Sam was not really any concern of Cas's. Instead, the young angel found himself absolutely enthralled by Dean Winchester. Everything about him was just so . . . fantastic. His face, his hair, his evergreen eyes, his freckles, his broad chest, his muscular arms, this (Cas was a bit ashamed to admit he'd noticed this) perfectly sculpted buttocks, his beautiful smile, the way he'd throw his head back when he laughed, the way he was always willing to take a bullet for his friends, the way he looked at Castiel when the angel did something particularly grand, and of course his incredibly bright soul – all of these things drove Castiel to the brink.

However, he kept all of this to himself. He knew that Dean was not interested in boys. He also knew that Dean was not very fond of angels. _Dean is my friend,_ Cas would always tell himself. _He may never love me as I love him . . . but as long as he is my friend, I will be content._

As fall began to get a firm grip on the land, Castiel began to hear whispers of an upcoming dance. Some of the other creatures called it "homecoming". Castiel knew little of human practices, but Gabriel had attempted to explain this concept to him, but it had gone over his head. "Look, most schools have a homecoming dance in honor of the homecoming of their football team. We don't have a football team – that would be an absolute disaster – but we still have a dance because it's kind of a tradition."

Castiel still didn't quite understand, so he decided to ask Dean about it. Dean was a human, and he seemed to be very knowledgeable when it came to such things. So, when he sat down at lunch one afternoon in mid-September, he decided to ask him. "Dean, what is homecoming?"

Dean looked up from the pizza he'd been eating. Sam and Adam – who were sitting across from them – looked up as well, as if just to watch Dean's reaction.

"It's a dance, Cas," Dean said simply.

"Oh," the angel replied, still not quite understanding. "That is what Gabriel said . . . So . . . homecoming is a dance? Is there certain moves that once must perform?"

"No, Cas," Dean grumbled tiredly. "It's like a . . . like a party. People go there – usually with a date – and they dance to music and have fun with friends."

"A date?"

"Someone you like."

"Oh . . . And this sort of thing is . . . customary?"

"Yes, Cas."

Dean had just taken another bite of his pizza when Cas asked, "Would you like to go to homecoming with me, Dean?"

The human nearly spit out his pizza. Sam and Adam were staring at Castiel with wide eyes. Sam even mouthed "run". Castiel didn't understand. Why should he be afraid? Then he noticed Dean's face; it was as red as tomato, and he looked _very_ uncomfortable.

"Cas . . . no," Dean said. "Look I don't . . . I don't swing that way, okay?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "You don't want to be my date?"

"NO!" Dean shouted. Castiel flinched at the venom in Dean's voice. His stomach twisted itself into a knot. He felt horrible. He made Dean mad, and he might have just ruined their friendship. A few people from nearby tables had heard Dean's outburst and were now looking on like a bunch of vultures waiting for more drama to ensue. Castiel saw Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Balthazar, and the rest of his siblings looking at his table too. He began to feel hot.

Dean saw Cas flinch, and his expression softened. "Cas . . . No, okay?"

For some reason, Cas's vision began to blur. He didn't understand it. What was going on? What was his vessel doing? His cheeks then felt wet. _Am I . . . ? Am I crying? Well . . . humans do it when they are sad . . . I guess that my vessel just kind of . . . reacted?_ The next thing Cas knew, his body was shaking, and he was making a small, pathetic whimpering noise. He felt a strong pain in his chest. _Is this . . . Is this what rejection feels like?_ "Dean . . ." Cas tried to speak. His voice came out tortured and raw due to the tears. He didn't sound like himself. "Don't you . . . don't you like me?"

Dean's face looked stricken. "Of course I like you, Cas! But I don't . . . It's my fault – it's all my fault. I didn't explain it properly. Cas, a date isn't just anyone – it's not someone you _like_, it's someone that you're attracted to – someone you want to be in a romantic relationship with."

Now Castiel understood Dean's outburst. And now he was even more embarrassed.

"That's not what you meant, Cas," Dean said simply, and then he faltered. "Was it?"

It was, but how could Cas tell Dean that now? He knew what Dean would say. Suddenly, he couldn't be there anymore. His instincts seemed to be telling him to flee. Half the cafeteria – if not all of it – was watching this scene unfold. He couldn't take all the eyes on him. He couldn't take the snickers that had begun when he started to cry. He couldn't take his brother's and sister's hard stares. He couldn't take the look in Dean's eyes.

He jumped up from his seat and bolted out of the cafeteria. He heard Dean shouting his name, but it only made him run faster. He ran through the hallways toward the nearest exit. He wanted to be away from this place. He wanted to be back in Heaven where he was safe from all this ridicule – where he was safe from Dean.

Castiel ran out of the school, and hurried down the few steps outside. When he reached the bottom one, he lost all composure. He began to sob, his entire body shaking. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like his body was breaking? Why did the thought of Dean rejecting him do this?

_Why do I feel like this? Why do I . . . WHY DID I HAVE TO FALL IN LOVE WITH DEAN WINCHESTER?!_

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A/N: Review?


	12. Chapter 12

_Supernatural High - Chapter 12_

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**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 12**

Dean looked for Cas for the rest of the day. He even ditched class to do it. After seeing the tears in the poor angel's eyes, Dean felt like the biggest asshole on the face of the earth – worse than all the angels, worse than Crowley, worse than anyone. By the time the school day came to an end, Dean was still empty-handed.

With a sigh of resignation, the hunter went to retrieve the Impala from the parking lot in the back of the school. By the time he pulled around to the front again, Sam was already standing there. And, to Dean's displeasure, a short angel with light brown hair stood beside him, sucking on a lollipop. As the Impala rolled to a halt, Dean rolled down the window and shouted, "Sammy! Let's go!"

Sam turned to the angel and said something Dean couldn't hear. The angel's lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. He said something back and Sam blushed. Dean couldn't believe his eyes. _Did . . . Did Sammy just blush!?_ Sam then hurried toward the car, shifting his backpack.

As the younger Winchester clambered inside, Dean struggled to hide his annoyance. Sam's brief interaction with Gabriel had reminded Dean of the other problem. The Sammy problem. The an-archangel-might-be-in-love-with-Sammy-problem. Dean had more than enough on his plate with Cas, and now Sam was once again added to the mix. If this angel – Gabriel – was interested in Sam in a romantic way, Dean knew that he would have to put a stop to it. It wasn't because that Dean was against gays - hell he wasn't so sure about himself when he was around Cas - but because Dean cared about his little brother. He knew how angels were, and he didn't want Sam to get hurt, or worse.

"Have fun talking to the angel?" Dean said bitterly. For a moment, he regretted the sharpness in his tone, but then straightened up.

Sam stiffened for a split second before regaining his composure. "Gabriel was just asking me about Castiel."

Dean's eyes narrowed into a glare. Of course Sammy would bring that up. Dean didn't bother to ask another question - Sam would just find a way to change the subject or only half-answer it. He pulled away from the school and whipped out of the parking lot. "By the way, did you find Castiel?" Sam asked, looking at Dean with genuine curiosity.

The older Winchester pursed his lips together in a thin line. "No."

Sam mulled over that. "He probably went home, Dean. That's what I'd do if—" he broke off and looked at his shoes.

_If what, Sam?_ Dean thought, irritated_. If that angel-dick did that to you? Hell . . . I don't think even angels are that mean. Shit. Cas, I'm sorry._

For the rest of the ride home, neither of them spoke. Sam to be lost in his own thoughts, and Dean did is best to focus on driving. He knew that once they got home, their father would have a thousand questions to ask, and none of them were "how was your day, son?" Most of them were on monster behavior, angels, demons, etc. Everything creep-tacular, John Winchester was interested in. Everything involving his sons' emotional statuses and personal lives, he shied away from like a green horse.

As the pulled into the old, rundown house they were currently squatting in, Dean saw John's black Sierra Grande in the drive. He let out a small sigh as he pulled in and shut off the Impala's engine.

"Are you ready to play Twenty Questions?" Sam asked. Even though it was meant to be a joke, Dean could hear the dread in his little brother's voice. At least, even now, they found something to agree on.

Dean let himself smirk just a little. "Yeah, try fifty," he muttered before getting out of the car. Sam did the same, and they both headed into the house.

After John Winchester had questioned them thoroughly on the monsters they spent time with eight hours out of every day, Dean made dinner for him and Sam. John had said that he had a hunt he was planning to go on once the sun set. Dean had asked if he could tag along, but John just told him to stay at "home" and watch over Sam.

Any other older brother might be annoyed, or even angered by this. They might take it out on their younger brother, seeing them as the real problem in this situation. But not Dean. Dean didn't blame Sam for anything. In a way, Dean was more mature than most boys his age in that sense. He wasn't bratty or spoiled in any way; he knew that more often than not, he couldn't get what he wanted, and tried to make the best of what he did have.

So Dean didn't really mind staying at the house with Sammy. He'd be able to look after him then – make sure no monster, or no angel paid him a visit.

"Dean, can we have Mac and Cheese for dinner?" Sam asked. He sat at an old, dusty table in the house's small kitchen with an insanely large textbook in front of him. They had lucked out this time, but more often than not, the houses they stayed in were completely bereft of furniture. This house, however, had a few luxuries - a kitchen table, a stove built in to the wall, a few cabinets and cupboards lining the kitchen walls, a couch, a coffee table, a recliner, and a broken lamp. It wasn't much, and Dean wasn't quite sure why these were even still here. It was obvious that most of the other furniture had been removed and taken somewhere else; it didn't make sense that these things were left behind.

"Maybe," Dean murmured, rummaging through the plastic bags of meager groceries John had picked up earlier that day. "I'll have to see if we have it . . ."

"Dean, I have a question," Sam asked a few moments later.

Sighing, Dean motioned with one of his hands for Sam to proceed. "Um . . . do you think that I could . . . go to Homecoming this year?"

Dean stopped searching through the bags. He hadn't been expecting that question. "Wait, what?"

Sam looked down a little sheepishly. "I mean . . . I just thought that it would be fun. Adam was talking about it – he thinks he's going and I kinda wanna go too."

"I . . . guess it's okay. I mean, you have to ask Dad, but . . . it's cool with me. You got a date, or somethin'?" Dean asked. In a way, he hoped that his little brother did, but at the same time, he wanted the answer to be a no. He hoped that Sam had a girlfriend, or someone he was looking to take, but he didn't want Sam to be thinking about asking that freakin' angel to go with him.

Sam shook his head. "No, I wasn't thinking of . . . really going with anyone."

"Oh," Dean said, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. "Well, goin' stag is fine – hell, you have more fun that way."

"Yeah . . . uh, Dean?"

"What, Sammy?" The older Winchester returned to looking through the bags, wondering if John had gotten the Mac and Cheese Sam had wanted.

"Do you . . . I mean . . . Are you . . . worried that I like Gabriel?"

Dean froze again and slowly turned to look at his brother. "Why? Do you?"

Sam faltered for a moment before sighing. "I mean . . ."

"Aw hell, Sam!"

"Dean, it's just . . . He's not a bad guy – he's my friend."

"Friend?"

"Yeah, a _friend_, Dean," Sam said again, being sure to emphasize the word. "We aren't . . . boyfriends or anything."

"Cas said—"

Sam cut him off before he could finish. "If Gabriel does like me like that he . . . he hasn't said anything. We're just friends, okay? Nothing is gonna happen between us, Dean. I'm not gay, and neither is he. You don't have to worry about me, and you certainly don't have to worry about _that._"

Dean thought about that for a second. Maybe Cas had just gotten it wrong. Maybe Sam was telling the truth. I mean, Dean never saw Sammy as being attracted to other boys. He never saw his little brother as being interested in that sort of thing. Dean felt a small glimmer of hope; maybe he really _didn't_ have to worry about Sam. Maybe he could let his guard down for a while and not worry about some stupid angel trying to seduce him.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked. He figured that he might as well let Sam _think_ that he was going to forget all about it. Just because he gave the impression that he had, didn't mean he had to. _I can at least keep an eye on him,_ Dean thought. _Make sure he's not pulling my leg or anything._

Sam nodded, and then went back to his homework. It was then that Dean spied the box of Mac and Cheese hiding at the bottom of one of the bags. "There it is! Sammy, your Mac and Cheese is on the way!"

* * *

Later that night, after Sam had gone to bed, Dean sat up in the living room, waiting for John to return. He had a shotgun in his lap, and was staring silently at the wall opposite of the recliner he currently rested in. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, Dean couldn't help but think about Castiel, and how crushed the angel had looked. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the image out of his head.

_I wish I could just tell him I'm sorry,_ Dean thought in defeat. _I just wish I could talk to him._ Then Dean remembered what Sam's dorky friend Adam had said. He had prayed to Michael and then Michael had suddenly appeared and saved him from the demons. Maybe if Dean tried praying to Cas . . .

The hunter set his shotgun on the floor beside the recliner and closed his eyes. He brought his hands together and interlocked his fingers. _I pray to the angel Castiel that he may hear me and . . . know that I am sorry. Cas, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings it's just . . . you kind of freaked me out there. I wasn't expecting it and . . . and I just kind of . . . overreacted. Hell, I'm sorry Cas. I'm really, really sorry._

Dean put his head in his hands then, his stomach twisting into an uncomfortable knot. He let out a tired sigh and began to rub his eyes.

Just then, Dean heard a soft sound, almost like a flutter of wings.

And then a deep voice murmured behind him, "Hello Dean."

Dean jumped to his feet and whirled around to see a red-eyed, tired-looking Castiel. The nerdy angel still wore his trench coat, white shirt, and blue tie. Without thinking, Dean rushed forward and threw his arms around the angel. "Man, is it good to see you, Cas," Dean said, his voice betraying his happiness.

Cas just stood there for a few seconds, rigid and a bit confused. And then, slowly, Cas hugged him back, wrapping his tiny arms around Dean's torso. "It's good to see you too, Dean. But I have to be honest, I was not expecting such a reception."

Dean pulled back, and looked at the angel's bewildered face. "I'm just . . . I didn't think you'd actually come, that's all."

Cas looked down. "Why would I not come to you, Dean? You are my best friend . . . even if you are not a very nice one."

"Shit, Cas . . . I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I just . . . I didn't know _how_ to react to that," Dean tried to amend. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

Cas shook his head. "You don't need to make it up to me, Dean. It's unnecessary."

"The hell it ain't," Dean said, shaking his head. "I wanna do something for you."

"Dean . . . really . . . it's okay. I understand. Really, I do. Things are so complex with humans – there are so many standards, so many traditions, so many expectations. With us angels, things are so simple and straightforward. We just had a clash of cultures, that's all," Cas tried to explain.

Dean stared at the angel with tight eyes. "Your eyes say different."

Cas didn't have an answer for that.

"Cas," Dean said, feeling rather brave. He knew that there was only one way to fix this situation; one way to get back in Cas's good graces. "Would you like to go to Homecoming with me?"

The angel stared at Dean with wide eyes. "You . . . you mean as friends, or . . ."

Dean took a deep breath. He could hardly take the look of awe and look of pleased disbelief on Cas's face. He looked . . . kinda cute. "As my date, Cas."

Cas stared at him, his bright, blue eyes sparkling with joy. It was clear that he was trying to contain his excitement. "I . . . I'd be delighted to, Dean."

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A/N: Review?


	13. Chapter 13

_Supernatural High - Chapter 13_

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**Hey guys. Sorry for such a long wait. :C I have stupidly huge amounts of school work.**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 13**

Sam was happy for Dean and Cas. Even though he knew his brother would deny it for as long as he could, Dean did feel _something_ for that nerdy angel. In fact, Sam could venture a guess that he hadn't been happier since coming to Supernatural High. He had a best friend, a handsome angel that was a bit more than just a friend, and his brother finally had someone to make him happy. Things were going incredibly well, and Sam couldn't really complain.

There was really only _one_ thing that could have been better: his relationship with Gabriel and Dean's acceptance of it. Sam had stopped trying to convince himself that he wasn't attracted to the archangel. Every time he tried to force himself to think so, he was proven wrong by the angel himself. Whenever Sam had thoughts about whether or not he really loved Gabriel, the angel always found ways to make the doubts disappear. Odds were, Gabriel was scanning his thoughts almost every second of the day, but Sam was strangely okay with that. In a way, it was a bit comforting to know that someone cared so much.

Sam continued to meet Gabriel in the bathroom every day during lunch. He would make up some lie for Dean - he would say that he and Adam were going to the library to read up on some lore, or that they had a paper that was due that they needed to work on. Dean never really questioned this; he just figured Sammy was being a nerd, as always. Adam, on the other hand, did ask a few questions. He would casually ask why Sam had to go to the bathroom so much, and if he had an issue with his digestive system. Sam would always find ways to get around the question. He didn't want Adam to know that he was "seeing" Gabriel. Sam didn't know how Adam felt about that sort of thing, and didn't know how he would react. He didn't want to lose a friend just because he was having a little fun with an angel.

However, Sam still struggled to accept the fact that he was . . . involved with another man. Even if it was an angel, who was technically a celestial being with no definitive gender.

About two weeks after Dean "proposed" to Cas (as Sam called it behind his brother's back), Sam realized that Homecoming was only two weeks away. He heard some of the girls chatting about it in the hall, and it had been on his mind for a while. He knew that Adam wanted to go, and Sam found himself wanting to as well. Not with Adam, of course, but just by himself. He thought that it would be a fun night, and a good experience.

One afternoon in the bathroom, after Gabriel and Sam had finished their . . . activities, Sam brought up the topic. "Hey . . . Gabriel?"

"Yeah, bucko?" the archangel asked. He stood in front of one of the mirror, fixing his mussed hair. The first few buttons on his white shirt were also undone thanks to Sam's eager hands.

"Um . . . are you going to Homecoming this year?" Sam asked, unable to keep the "awkward tone" out of his voice. He sounded like a frightened boy from Middle School trying to ask a girl out for the first time.

Gabriel paused, his hands frozen in midair. He slowly lowered them and glanced slyly over at this human friend. "Is that an invitation?"

Sam fumbled with his fingers. "Not exactly – you know we can't go together; Dean would throw a fit. But, we might be able to . . . meet there."

The archangel frowned slightly at the mention of Dean. The older Winchester always had ways of ruining Gabriel's fun it seemed. Then, after a few seconds of deliberation, he nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that." He gave Sam a rather sheepish smile. "Wanna meet up here?"

Sam smiled furtively and nodded. "Absolutely."

* * *

Sixth period was one of Sam's favorites – Honors English 9 with Mr. Chuck Shurley. Mr. Shurley was an . . . eccentric man. Sam was certain that most of his "visionary" works came from some idea he'd had while smoking a joint or something. However, Sam couldn't deny that some of Mr. Shurley's ideas were brilliant. The things that man could think up – they seemed almost too real. Sometimes, Sam thought that the things Mr. Shurley said might actually come true.

The day that Sam had spoken to Gabriel about the dance was the day he met Ruby. She was shorter than Sam, and had long, thick dark hair. Her eyes were a cold, forbidding brown color that still managed to captivate. She was undeniably beautiful – everything about her drew Sam in like a moth to a flame.

Mr. Shurley had assigned an assignment that required partner work. Sam had been a little stunned when Ruby came over and sat down beside him. She was so beautiful – not at all like someone he would expect to even think of him. "Hey, you're Sam Winchester, aren't you?" she asked, looking at him with soft eyes. She battered her eyelashes a couple time. Sam swallowed and shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Oh . . . yeah," Sam said, looking up at the girl with wide eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm Ruby," she answered, her eyes flashing black for a millisecond.

Sam started then. With a sharp intake of breath, he turned back to the notebook on his desk. Ruby let out a labored sigh. "Look, I know I'm a demon – it doesn't mean that I'm some evil bitch."

He didn't answer right away. He mulled over this idea for a moment. From the moment he'd known that demons even exist, he had been taught that they were all evil and corrupt. Both his father and Dean had always said that demons could never be trusted. The only good demon was a dead one. But, right off hand, Ruby didn't seem bad. "What do you want?" Sam asked quietly.

Ruby pulled up a seat beside him and sat down. "Mr. Shurley said we needed partners, so here I am," she said simply. "I don't understand what's so hard about it."

Sam reluctantly said yes, but still remained a little wary of her. Her looks were not enough to override the fact that she was a demon.

"So, the assignment was to write the most creative story we could think of . . . What do you think we should do ours on?" Ruby asked, as if nothing had transpired between them.

As much as he wanted to continue to give her the silent-treatment, he knew it would do little to drive her away._ I guess I kinda have to work with her,_ Sam thought grudgingly. _Ugh, maybe I can talk to Mr. Shurley after class and get assigned another partner . . . And if Mr. Shurley won't do it, then I can tell Dean. He'll do something. Can't tell Dad. Do not tell Dad._ "I dunno," he mumbled beginning to draw a stick figure in the margin of notebook paper.

"Wow, you sure are helpful," Ruby muttered, taking out her own notebook. She wrote "Story Ideas" at the top of the page and began to make bullet points. "Maybe we could do something . . . fantasy-like. Like Tolkien style. What do you think?"

Sam just hummed in agreement, not even bothering to give input. He had finished his stick figure, but felt something was missing. He began to give it hair, and curled it back like Gabriel's.

The demon huffed and wrote "Fantasy/Middle-Earth" next to the first bullet. She then happened to glance over at Sam's notebook. "What are you doing?"

"Doodling," Sam answered. He had finished the hair and was now drawing two large wings jutting from the stick man's back.

Ruby shrugged and wrote "angel" down next to the second bullet. "Okay . . . so you have a thing for angels? Is that why you hate demons so much?" Ruby teased, setting her pencil down. She faced Sam now, and ran a hand through her long, dark brown hair. Sam gulped. It did look rather soft . . . and it framed her face quite nicely . . .

Sam shrugged in response to the question. "I guess you could say that."

Ruby studied the angel again. "Is that based on anyone in particular?" she queried innocently.

For a moment, Sam considered telling her, but then thought against it. Demons were cruel, cold and manipulative. She would take the information about him and Gabriel and tell everyone she could. Sam realized, much to his horror, that he was beginning to soften around this demon. He stiffened slightly and began to reconstruct his internal barriers. "It's none of your business, demon," he nearly growled.

Ruby rolled her eyes, and raised her hands up in defense. "Jeez, kid. It was just a question."

Sam just narrowed his eyes. "_Christo._"

Ruby let out a demonic hiss and cringed. Her soft eyes turned a ferocious black. Her hands gripped the desk tightly and, for a moment, Sam was certain she would break it in half. When the effect of the word wore off, she gave Sam a death-glare. "You son of a bitch," she growled. "If we weren't in school right now, I would rip off your skin and then devour your flesh!"

"Yeah, good luck with that," Sam grunted. "I have a badass hunter for a dad, a badass hunter for an older brother, and a guardian angel – and they're all just waiting to jump in to protect me. You lay one hand on me, and they'll disintegrate you."

Ruby glowered at him. "You don't have to bring the angel into this, you know. You act like I'm some kind of monster."

"You just threatened to peel off my skin and eat my flesh!" Sam pointed out sharply.

"Because you said—" Ruby paused, and lowered her voice dramatically, "the C-word."

Sam rolled his eyes. What was she playing at? What was she trying to accomplish? "Look, let's just . . . get this stupid story written as soon as possible, and then never speak to each other again, huh?"

Ruby continued to glare, but gave him a curt nod. Sam let out a sharp huff. He had a feeling that he was going to hate Mr. Shurley's class now.

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A/N: THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REVIEW!


	14. Chapter 14

_Supernatural High - Chapter 14_

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**I don't own Supernatural.**

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**Chapter 14**

"Ugh, you're not even into it," Meg growled, shoving Lucifer off her. They were lying in the back seat of some car Meg had stolen a while back. Meg sat up, smoothed her hair, and pulled down her skirt again. Lucifer sighed and began the complex process of putting his jeans back on inside the cramped backseat of a Riviera. When he was fully clothed again, Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck. Okay, so he had been a little . . . distracted while he was with Meg, but who could blame him? Gabriel was seeing a human of all things! And then there was little Castiel – also hopelessly in love with a Winchester. So what if he hadn't been giving Meg his full attention while they were having sex? Maybe she should have been more interesting!

Lucifer straightened his shirt and sighed. Sometimes, it seemed that Meg was just too demanding for his liking. Didn't she understand that he was having issues of his own?

Meg pulled her shirt over her head. "What is it with you, anyway?" she asked, pulling it down over her chest and torso. She sounded a bit pissed. "I was lying there begging you for it, and you couldn't even - you know what, never mind." Without warning, she threw open the car door and stumbled out into the parking lot.

The archangel groaned and followed her. "Meg," he said tiredly. He wasn't in the mood to make her feel special right now. "I'm just really distracted, okay?"

"So distracted that you can't even fuck me?" Meg shot back hotly. Lucifer had to admit that she did look sexy as hell when she was angry.

"I'm worried about my brothers, okay?" he muttered. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. I better be getting home anyway before Michael throws a fit and tries to restart the apocalypse."

As he turned to leave, he felt Meg's hand curl around his bicep. She shoved him against the side of the station wagon with such force that the car nearly tipped over. Lucifer had to admit: he was paying attention to her now. "You aren't going anywhere," she purred. "Not until we have a chat."

"A chat?" he queried mischievously. "I was hoping for something else."

"I bet you were," Meg murmured, her hands now running down his chest. "I know you like it rough, Luci."

"Don't call me that," the angel growled.

"Luci-baby," Meg trilled. "C'mon . . . I'm right here." She opened the car door behind him and roughly shoved him inside. She climbed in on top of him, slamming the door in her wake. "I want you."

Lucifer groaned. "Dammit, Meg," he hissed.

But it was too late. Meg had the upper hand, and before he knew it, he was helpless to her charm. "I wanna know what's going on with you. What is bothering you?"

Lucifer let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, look at that. A demon that cares. How funny."

"Shut up, dick," she muttered harshly. "I'm trying to _help,_ you ass."

"You can't help!" Lucifer shot back. "There is absolutely nothing you could do."

"Oh really? You know what, I disagree with that."

"Of course you do."

"You know why?"

"Enlighten me, sweetheart."

"Because I've got you like putty in my hands," Meg purred. She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her icy fingers down his chest. The archangel shivered. Damn, that felt good. "And I can make you scream if I want to."

"I . . ." Lucifer whispered, his voice sounding breathy and labored now. Her hands had just reached his waist and had begun to undo the buttons on his jeans. "I hardly see how this helps."

"Don't worry, Luci-baby. I'm gonna make you feel _real good_ and then you can tell me about all your problems. But I won't do anything unless you promise to tell me everything."

Lucifer was panting now. He had no choice. He needed her. Badly. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Now take your fucking clothes off."

* * *

"Where've you been?" Balthazar inquired as Lucifer returned to Heaven.

The older angel gave his little brother a fearsome glare. "None of your business," he growled.

Balthazar winced humorously. "Ooh, did your demon give you something?"

Lucifer just let out a low hiss and stalked past him. "Gabriel! Castiel!" he shouted. "I need to talk to you." After his . . . "fun" with Meg, he'd told her everything, as he'd agreed. And, to his surprise, Meg actually had a few good ideas. One of them being an intervention. At first, Lucifer had laughed but then he realized: it was just crazy enough that it might actually work.

"It won't do any good," Balthazar muttered. "They're out."

"Out? What do you mean 'out'?" Lucifer snapped, whipping around to face him.

Balthazar raised up his hands defensively. "Hey, I dunno, bro. All I know is that Cas left first – said he was gonna go meet someone. And then Gabriel came by about a half hour later – about twenty minutes or so before you got here – and said he was going out too. He didn't tell me where or why."

Lucifer gritted his teeth. "Fine. _GABRIEL. CASTIEL. THIS IS LUCIFER. GET YOUR FEATHERY ASSES HOME RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME, I WILL GET MICHAEL TO HELP ME LOCK YOU IN THE CAGE!_" he roared.

Balthazar shrunk away from the archangel, and proceeded to make himself scarce. Moments later, Gabriel and Cas materialized in front of their older brother. They both looked very embarrassed as if they'd been caught red-handed. _Maybe they _were_ visiting their _humans_!_ Lucifer thought angrily.

The archangel snapped his fingers and two chairs appeared behind his younger brothers. "Sit."

Gabriel and Castiel immediately obliged. They sat there, looking very guilty. Cas had interlocked his fingers and had them resting in his lap. He refused to meet Lucifer's gaze. Gabriel was leaning back, his arms folded across his chest. Lucifer knew that he was trying to put on a bold façade, but he could see the fear in his little brother's eyes.

"Okay, thank you for coming," Lucifer said, looking between the two of them. "So glad to have you here. Please turn all your electronic devices off, and absolutely no texting your human boyfriends for class is now in session. Little brothers, Satan is going to teach you all about love."

Gabriel was smirking now, struggling to hold in a laugh that was threatening to break loose. "This is gonna be good," he whispered to Cas.

"Are you going to teach us . . . how to make people love us?" little Castiel asked, blinking innocently at his older brother.

Lucifer shook his head. "No. I'm going to teach you about the horrendous _Homo sapien_ and why they are _awful_ creature to fall in love with."

Now, both Cas and Gabriel had gone completely silent.

Lucifer saw that as his cue to continue. "Now, Father made humans in his own image, supposedly. So, it is completely natural that we feel . . . attracted to them."

"You never did," Gabriel pointed out. "You hated their asses."

"Well . . . yes," Lucifer allowed. "But I did not let them taint me. I knew what they really were – broken, flawed monsters full of hatred, rage, failure, and sadness. That is all they are, brothers. That is all they are. But I know why most angels like them – why they watch over them. They are Father's last creation. They are Father's 'masterpiece', as he unjustly dubbed them. Gabriel, you are in love with Samuel Winchester – son of Mary and John Winchester. And Castiel, you are in love with Dean Winchester – son of Mary and John Winchester, and older brother to Samuel Winchester. What it is about these two humans in particular – how they've managed to ensnare the hearts of my two favorite brothers, I will never know. But I know that this . . . bond must be broken."

"Says you," Gabriel snapped. "Lucifer, I may be younger than you, but I've been around since dirt. I know what humans are like – I've been around them a hell of a lot more than you have. And I know how beautiful and wonderful they can be, and I _am not_ ashamed to say that I am in love with a human. I am not afraid to shout to the world that I am in love with Sam Winchester."

Lucifer shook his head. He wasn't going to give up that easily. "You say you know humans, Gabriel. Do you know how many relationships humans have? How many hearts they break? How many times they take a mate and then _throw them away_ for someone else? Do you think that they value true love and affection? Do you think that they care about anything more than sex or physical interaction?"

Gabriel did not respond to that.

"What about you, Castiel? You know about Dean's reputation – I'm sure you've heard of it. All the girls he's fucked. All the sluts he's been through – how little _they_ mattered to him. You think you're better than them? You think you _mean more_ to him than they did? How long before he gets tired of toying with you? How long until he gets _bored_ with you? How long before he _leaves your sorry ass?!_"

"Lucifer, that's enough!" Gabriel shouted, jumping to his feet.

It was then that the archangel noticed the tears in Castiel's eyes. He took a step back and Gabriel worked to comfort the younger angel. "What is your _problem_, Luci?" Gabriel snarled. "Why can't you accept the fact that we love humans? Why can't you just live with it? It's not like we're hurting anyone! All we want to do is be happy – and being with Sam and Dean . . . that makes us happier than any angel ever could."

Lucifer glowered at them. Why did they have to be so adamant? Why did they have to be so difficult? Didn't they see that he was trying to _help_ them? That he was trying to _save_ them from unnecessary heartbreak? "Whatever," he grumbled, painfully letting the topic rest. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

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A/N: Thanks for reading!

And yeah, Luci is going to be a bit of a judgmental dick for a while. He _does_ hate humans, so it's gonna take a while before he accepts the wishes of his brothers.

Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!


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